Fantasy Trip
by tstone
Summary: Space is a place where the rules of reality can change, and take you down a road you weren't expecting. The value of friendship can be examined anew...
1. Off To See

Rigel eyed the slim, shiny, cylindrical object John Crichton was using to make notes

on the pulpy leaf tablet he had found in on of Moya's cargo areas.

Crichton stopped writing and looked at Rigel out of the corner of his eye.

"Sparky, this in one pen out of three for light years all around, that I know of. It

disappears, I know who to talk to," he warned.

"I don't see why maintaining such useless devices would be of any concern to you,

Crichton," Rigel whined. "You can just take a portable display terminal, or just ask

Pilot what you need to know. Such rare artifacts from Earth could fetch a good

price at the next commerce planet. Why waste them on a function for which you

don't need?"

"Because, Fluffy, I brought them from Earth with me. They're mine. Dad gave them

to me as a graduation present. Machines can fail. And besides, Pilot can only tell me

what Moya knows. And he admits there are some things she hasn't kept track of, as

far asPeacekeeper activities go."

Chrichton gestured expansively, "She didn't know about that alarm, she didn't know

about the sperm in a sack that produced Talyn. A whole bunch of stuff, surprises

we've had. What else doesn't she know about? We're

gonna find out, and make a permanent record. Then, I'm gonna find a Xerox around

here someplace, make a few copies, give them to those who need to know, and

stash a copy away, all safe-like."

Chianna's dark eyes shined, "I've been around this ship, I could show you some

interesting stuff!"

"That's why I want you along, Pip," he nodded. "You and Spanky here have done

some of the most prowling, you'll be able to point out some stuff. Between the

three of us, we'll map Moya in no time."

"My price for my assistance is first claim on anything of value," Rigel announced

imperiously.

Chrichton rolled his eyes, "Ya gotta ruin everything with this 'me first' attitude, Rigel.

Look, we're buddies, going on an adventure. We're looking for One-Eyed Willy's gold,

just like the Goonies!"

Both Rigel and Chianna's eyes lit up at the mention of gold, and a smile spread

across the face of John Chrichton. He had 'em. Rigel couldn't resist the idea of

shineys, and neither could Chianna. That and the poor blue girl was hopelessly

bored. This was going to be fun. And both of them were entertaining company. Now,

if he could keep Rigel from stealing his pens, and the two of them from fighting if

they came across something valuable...

"Let's go, Chunk," he gestured to Rigel, as they set off. "And stay away from my

pens, or I'll make you do the Truffle Shuffle."

Chianna loped along behind them, looking all about.

In the Pilot Chamber, Pilot was communing with Moya. The latest close escape from

Scorpius' Command Carrier had sent Moya into an emergency Starburst toward a

region of space that looked like it could provide

cover.

It was black, indistinct. As Moya had emerged from the starburst, it seemed to

dampen, even block at distances, electromagnetic energy. It seemed to be

generated by a singularity, but there was no gravity to indicate thus. She didn't read

any danger, and wanted to hide.

Pilot had an uneasy feeling, but agreed. Moya made headway into the Dark Zone.

Pilot felt he needed another opinion, though. "Officer Sun, could you come see this?"

"I'll be right there, Pilot."


	2. Into the Void

Aeryn Sun stepped forward onto the Observation Deck. She had woken instantly from slumber in her quarters, having not caught a wink of sleep in their latest running escape from Scorpius. Pilot had finally urged her to address her need. So she figured, if he had woken her up, it must be important. She rubbed the sleep out of her dark eyes, absently flicked a stray raven lock, and looked out the front port.

Blackness.

A hologram of Pilot appeared. Aeryn was probably more familiar with the moods of Pilot than anyone else present, except for Moya, due to a bizarre experiment in a previous adventure that found her DNA combined with his. And this spooked unease she hadn't seen before. Grace under pressure probably defined Pilot more than anyone else here, but he looked...scared?

"What's the matter, Pilot?

"That is the mattter, Officer Sun," Pilot said, indicating the blackness. "That's where Moya is going."

"Why?"

"It's energy dampening properties will make an excellent cover from any pursuing Peace Keeper craft."

"Ok, so what's the problem?"

"It's black."

"I see that," Aeryn nodded.

"Moya and I will have to maintain a plot fix on our current position to find our way out," Pilot said.

"How's that a problem?"

"There is a very small chance we could lose the fix, and be lost inside the phenomenon," Pilot said, his liquid eyes blinking slowly.

"I see," Aeryn said, nodding. "Pilot, you've navigated thru difficult circumstances before."

"I see," Aeryn said, nodding. "Pilot, you've navigated thru difficult circumstances before."

"Yes, Officer Sun. But this reminds me of...something...," his voice trailed off.

"What, Pilot?", she asked, walking up to the hologram, gesturing almost as if to touch it.

"It is not important. Moya has made her decision. And if it will save us from the Peace Keepers, I will do everything I can."

He seemingly shook himself and focused on his control panel.

Aeryn's brow furrowed, and she frowned a bit. She then turned, and watched the stars slowly vanishing as Moya made her way deeper into the Void.

And she remembered a tale about a legendary space dwelling monster that blacked out stars and replaced them with nightmares...

"


	3. D'argo's Ghosts

The Qualta Blade, his one sole keepsake, his one sole companion that serves as a

reminder of his former life. It is one of the few things he is proud of from that life. It

has been a constant he could count on. So far, no one has been able to take it from

him, at least permanently.

Ka D'argo considered the weapon as he sharpened the blade. So much tragedy and

death associated with this heirloom. Not only from his life, but all those before who

held this weapon. Is that really such a good thing to keep hold of?

D'argo shook is head, and a small chuckle rumbled. Yes, he has known pain, he has

known sorrow, he has known death. But that is the path of the warrior. You accept

that way of life when you take up arms. You bear it with honor, and you don't

complain.

"Father...," a familiar voice echoed, seemingly from nowhere.

"Jothee?", D'argo, looked up, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Father!", the voice called again, much louder this time. "Don't let him kill Mother!

Stop him! Don't worry about me!"

D'argo looked around. "Jothee? Where are you? And Jo'Lann is dead..."

His eyes narrowed and a rumble came low in his throat. What was going on here?

Suddenly, he was filled with a sense of loss, a sense of shame. He could have saved

Lo'Lann. He could have kept his family together. He didn't act, and it cost him his

family.

NO!

That wasn't how it happened.

Was it?

He felt something like the surging of...presences...fading in and out.

What was going on?

Suddenly, he heard a scream out in the corridor. He flung open the door just in time

to see Chianna bolting down it at full speed. She was flailing away at her head,

shrieking "NONONONONONONONONONOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

"Chianna!", D'argo called.

"Father!", he heard the voice again. And there was Macton, the Peacekeeper brother

of his wife, Lo'Lann.

"I will NOT accept her taking the seed of unpure filth such as yourself!", Macton

rumbled.

"NO!", Dargo screamed, then let loose with a blood curdling roar as he charged

forward, attempting to stop this scene as it played out again. He saw Lo'Lann slain

as before, but then, he saw Macton then turn his attention to Joffee.

"Wait, that's not how it happened!", D'argo exclaimed. He quickly converted his

Qualta blade to its gun mode and opened fire on Macton.

The scene faded, to be replaced by Chianna's increasingly distant screaming.

Shaking off his overwhelming sadness, gripping his rage and focusing, he charged

down the corridor. He had no idea what he saw meant, but Chianna was in trouble.

He failed one woman in his life. He wasn't going to fail another.


	4. Swallowed by Shadows

Pilot paused, attention breaking away from his dwelling on the dark phenomenon they were entering.

"Officer Sun?"

"Yes, Pilot?"

Moya says there's weapons fire going on in D'argo's quarters.

"What? Any intruders present?"

"Moya detects nothing."

"Is it still going on?"

Pilot paused, "...no..."

"What is it, Pilot?"

"There's something...out there," he said, indicating the darkness...

"Does Moya have any idea what it is?" Aeryn asked, turning back to the screen.

"No. It seems space is fluctuating, unstable, and it gets worse, the deeper we go...we have lost the navigational fix..."

"


	5. Fear

Pilot's voice had a strange smallness she had never heard. His usual unflappability and snarkiness were gone. He seemed to crouch lower behind his console. His large liquid eyes stared at Aeryn, as if seeking reassurance.

"Pilot, what's the matter?", she asked.

"Moya is terrified," Pilot said, "She feels alone."

"That's nonsense. You're here. We're here," Aeryn said crossly, her bruskness hiding her growing unease.

"Nevertheless, she is frightened, Officer Sun. She is lost. Moya has never been lost in her life. She has never FELT lost," Pilot amended.

This situation was quickly spiraling out of hand. They needed to get a grip.

"D'argo!", she barked into her comm-link. "What are you shooting at?"

Static...ZZZchtu..."Chian..."...BZZT...

"Chianna!"

Silence.

"John?"

"Anyone?"

Aeryn pursed her lips and swore. Okay...

"I'm going to look for John, D'argo and the others. Give me reports every ten minutes on what's going on."

She started to leave the bridge...

"Don't go!", Pilot said in a small, childlike voice, his head so low behind his console, only his eyes could be seen, staring pleadingly at her, one of his claws extended beseechingly.

"Pilot, I'm going to see what's going on with the others. After that, I'm going out in my Prowler, to give Moya something to fix on."

She walked up to the gentle giant and touched him gently on top of his massive head.

"We'll get out of this, old friend. I promise. I won't leave you."

Pilot straightened up a bit and minded his console, but continued to stare at Aeryn. She smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile, then left the bridge, to try to get to the bottom of things.

And as she strode down the corridors, the pools of shadow gathered here and there seemed more and more to mimic the darkness outside. Bottomless, black. Seeming to stare back...


	6. Moya's Mind

Crichton, Rigel and Chianna were in the gigantic, celestial-temple type room that housed Moya's Mind. White light that didn't leave shadows illuminated the area. And the engineering didn't even begin to make sense to Crichton's mind. He would love to spend a few decades trying to work how you got an intelligent starship from...that...

¨There's nothing in here of value, Crichton", Rigel sighed. ¨Let´s go see what´s next."

"I think Moya might be offended at that," Crichton mused, "I wonder if she can hear us in here?"

"I wonder if Moya dreams," Chianna wondered out loud.

Crichton looked at Chianna and smiled, "I'm sure she does, Pip. Question is... what does a centuries old sentient starship dream? Probably not electric sheep..."

Rigel and Chianna looked at Crichton questioningly.

"Never mind," he said. He looked at his notes, comparing them to his burgeoning map, and made another look around the room.

"This room looks bigger than my figures say it should be. Just an illusion, or is Moya part TARDIS?"

He scribbled some more notes, waving off the inevitable "What's a TARDIS?" question. He then flipped his pad over, and began to scrawl. The odd light of Moya's core reflecting off the dancing of the pen caught Rygel's eye. He drifted closer. Crichton saw the Hynerian ex-king coming, and looked at him sternly.

"FLUFFY..." he growled, then noted Chianna was standing next to him, her head cocked in the attitude when something has her attention, her dark eyes wide.

"What's up, Pip?"

Chianna slowly pointed at the paper in his hand, then at the air in front of Crichton.

An image of what he was drawing was taking shape in three dimensions, hanging in the air of the room containing Moya's mind...


	7. Story Sketch

The representation of this section of the Moya deck they were on spun before them in the strange space of Moya's mind. Crichton, Rigel and Chianna stared,  
wondering what it meant.

"Does this happen all the time here?" Chianna asked  
softly.

"Dunno, Pip, I haven't been here much. Besides, I don't want to intrude into Moya's thoughts. That would be rude. Right, Sparky?" he said, noting Rigel's eyes  
narrowing shrewdly.

"Hm. Test it, Crichton," Rigel mused.

"How?"

"Draw something! Use your imagination and that 'pen'! See what happens!"

"Yeah," Chianna chimed in. "Draw us! Tell a story! Maybe Moya can watch it, too."

"I hope so," Crichton mumbled, "Since it's her mindwe're messing with here. She might as well get some entertainment out of it, too. Lessee, how do I get the  
drawing there out of the picture...maybe it's like an Etch-A-Sketch..."

Crichton shook the pad, just to see what happened.

Nothing. The deck picture continued to spin before them.

"Heh," Cricton grunted. "Ok, let's...turn the page."

He flipped to a blank sheet in his pad. The deck sketch vanished.

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere," Cricton nodded with satisfaction. "Let's see...Pip, you're a wandering thief, galavanting throughout the realm, looking for adventure, to relieve your boredom..."

He sketched for a few minutes, and a bare bones image of Chianna appeared in the air, in a semi medieval outdoors costume of leather and wool, with a sexy,  
but still practical cut. Arms bare, but with gloves, a dagger strapped to her thigh. A glint of mischief in her eye.

"How's that?" he said to Chianna, indicating the rotating image.

Chianna grinned widely, "This is fun! Do Rigel!"

"Ok, exiled despot with no home..."

An even shorter, fatter image of Rigel took shape, floating on an enchanted palanquin, wearing garments that were once fine, now tattered, precious metal  
formerly shiny, now tarnished, and places where jewels used to be.

"He once ruled a vast empire, but intrigues saw the end of his reign. He lives for the day he can return to his throne. And have serving wenches bring him food  
nonstop," Crichton and Chianna chuckled as the image ate a morsel, and looked mournful at the fact there was no more.

"Very amusing, you disrespectful, insufferable cur,"  
Rigel growled.

"See, you're already into the role," Crichton laugh, slapping Rigel on the back, pulling his hand back quickly when Rigel snapped at it.

"What about you, Crichton? What role are you in this play?" Chianna asked with childlike giddiness.

"I'm an explorer, a ranger, lost, a long way from home. I know of ways of getting around the realm that certain powers would love to possess, only I don't really know how the secret works. I'm in danger wherever I go, as are those who travel with me," he said in a low voice, sketching furiously.

An image formed. Cricton in leather armor, with arboreal patterns. Bow, pack, shining eyes, haunted, lonely expression...

"Wow, that's good," Chianna breathed.

"Pheh," Rigel sniffed. "Lowly commoner. Why would I be traveling with you?"

"Because I hold the most likely way to get you back to your realm, Spanky. Sorry, Lord Spanky."

Rigel sniffed, raising his nose imperiously.

"Besides, I know how to get food out in the wilderness," Crichton added.

"An exchange of skills, I see," Rigel said.

"Better be," Crichton said. "No freeloaders on this expedition..."

He began sketches of the other members of the crew.

Aeryn began to take shape before them...


	8. Wandering in the Dark

Chianna's fear filled screams echoed in the distance as D'argo charged down Moya's labyrinthine halls. A distant part of his mind registered that he was in a part of the ship he was unfamiliar with, and perhaps he should try to contact Pilot, to get his bearings. And something was happening to the lighting. But the far more urgent side drove him on. Chianna needed him. He wouldn't fail. The mere thought of such a thing began to send his hyper-rage surging to the surface. But he had to stay focused on the hunt. Chianna's sound, scent, he would find her, he would save her. And he would kill without mercy whatever was threatening her. He only dimly registered the lighting in the corridor seeming to dim...

Aeryn charged down the hallway, looking for D'argo. She called his name sharply, several times out loud, then several more on her comm link. No reply. At first, she felt annoyance simmering. Then she remembered their current circumstances, and she felt a tinge, a tingle...of...fear. That's what it was. And it didn't help that it seemed to be getting darker. She hit her comm link again.

"Pilot! What's going on? Why is Moya losing power? Pilot!"

She rapidly about faced and ran down the corridor, towards Pilot's Control Pod...

Pilot was staring at the Deep Dark outside Moya. What was it Chrichton had said to him? an Earth man named Nitchy, or something similar...

"And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."

And he felt it. This abyss was staring back at him. He knew it.

Just then, he noticed the lights on his console dimming, the lights in the cavernous control center losing luminousity. And a darkness began seeping in.

He was alone. He was afraid...


	9. Living Art

Crichton continued his furious sketching, his brow furrowed as he concentrated. And then, he stopped.

Before the group now stood Aeryn, Dargo and Pilot. Dargo stood proud, primitive, a warrior born of a barbaric, yet honorable race. Tatoos marked arcane cultural references on his tall, well-muscled frame.

Pilot looked lost, confused, almost childlike. He had the appearance of one abandoned. A small pack of belongings were the only thing on him that could possibly tie him anywhere else.

And then, there was Aeryn Sun. Dressed in black leather armor, angled and fierce, yet stylish, with a touch of feminine, her dark eyes gazed forth, her jaw held resolute. One hand was on the hilt of a sword, the other was holding the reigns of the large black dragon sitting next to her.

"Wow," Chianna breathed. She reached out, as if to touch the D'argo image.

"Hmph. You granted D'argo more nobility than he deserved," Rigel sniffed.

"It's just a cartoon, your Highness," Crichton muttered. "One thing's missing..."

He began drawing again. And then, the light in the room started dimming. Chianna and Rigel looked around in confusion. Chianna then tapped Chrichton on the shoulder.

"What the..?"

Chrichton tapped his com-link, "Pilot, what's going on out there? Aeryn? D'argo? Geez, is anyone awake out there?"

The trio looked at each other in concern. Crichton made to stand in the dimming light, "I'm going to find out what the hell's going on..."

Suddenly, a glow appeared around the last drawing he was making.

A familiar voice pleaded, "FINISH..."


	10. Shadows Surround

In the dimming light of the chamber that contained Moya's mind, Crichton's last portrait had suddenly taken on a life of it's own. Familiar eyes stared entreatingly. Familiar hands reached for the three crewmates.

A familiar voice pleaded again, "FINISH..."

"Zahn!?", Crichton breathed?

"We've always known she has been watching over us...", Chianna whispered.

Rigel, for once, was speechless. He stared at the image before them. Even incomplete, it seemed very much alive.

"PLEASE...", Zahn's voice said again.

Crichton paused, then determinedly set to scribbling again.

"What the hell. Let's follow this one to the end..."

The image of Zahn sighed, and stretched, her voice becoming more substantial...

Aeryn stumbled about in the dark. She had no idea where she was. Light had failed completely. No one answered her calls. And she felt strongly she was being watched. Stalked.

"WHO ARE YOU?!!", she half roared. Her voice didn't even echo. It seemed to just get swallowed in the dark. Gritting her teeth, swallowing her growing fear, she moved on.

And on.

And on.

She found herself in a gigantic chamber. She headed into it, determined not to let her fear cause her pause. And if she was where she thought she was, she should find...

...her Prowler.

She felt the solid, comforting sides of its hull. Nodding in satisfaction, she climbed up in the dark, feeling her way, as she could see nothing. But sight was not necessary. She knew her Peacekeeper fighting craft like it was a part of her. She popped the canopy, and climbed in.

She began flipping switches, and the craft hummed under her, lights coming up, systems coming online. The black angular gunship purred with restrained might. Aeryn smiled, sharklike. She would go out and confront this, and give Pilot something to fix on. She couldn't stay here in the dark, alone, afraid...

D'argo charged down the corridors, going by smell and hearing, though his sight was useless. Chianna was here, somewhere. The one who pursued her, who threatened her would pay. He howled a mighty battle cry, challenging the dark. The dark swallowed it whole...

Pilot cried softly, oblivious to all, including Moya's fear filled entreaties...


	11. Swept Away

The glow from the phantasm-Zahn increased with each detail Crichton added to his illustration. And as her glow brightened, her voice became stronger, more real. At first, it was as if it was coming through an invisible veil. Now, it was quite clear. Her blue eyes burned with need. Her hands stretched forward to Crichton. Her now quite clear said, "PLEASE..!"

Crichton drew like a man possessed, his eyes fixed on his pad, darting back and forth, guiding his pen in his rendering of their companion who seemed about to return to them.

Chianna then said, "Hey, Crichton, what are you doing?", pointing at her picture.

It had begun to glow, too.

Rigel's eyes widened, seeing his portrait do the same. He and Chianna were dodging a berserk D'argo, whose image was charging at the two.

"Crichton!" Chianna yelled, quailing at the D'argo, the barbarian.

In the darkened corridors, D'argo flailed and snarled, trying to slay the darkness he now saw, felt, even tasted....

Aeryn Sunn began preparing the weaponry of her Prowler. She was getting out into space, and nothing was going to stop her. The darkness surrounded her, and she was not going to just lie down and accept fading away. She would destroy it, or force it to destroy her. Her hands closed on the firing controls...

Pilot began to slip away. The fear and the isolation, the darkness...OH THE DARKNESS...he couldn't escape. Moya's calls were fading...Moya...I'm sorry...

"CRICHTON!", Chiana screamed, gripping the human's shoulder. He looked up, and saw the figures fighting. Suddenly his figure looked in their direction, and sprang up to intervene. He fought bravely, but the battle enraged D'argo overwhelmed him, and poised to strike.

At that moment, D'argo the Real appeared in the room with a roar. Qalta blade raised over his head, he charged headlong at the group.

"WOAH, big guy..!", Crichton said, then muttered "SHIT!", as D'argo swung on him, and he barely dodged.

Suddenly there was a lurch, as if Moya had been hit by something.

"JOHN!" Zahn's voice called again, perfectly clear.

Crichton felt a surge of power through his body, and looked at the hand holding the pen. A glowing shaft of golden light now occupied his hand where the pen was.

"COME TO ME!" Zahn shouted.

Crichton grabbed Chianna and Rigel's hands, and leaped towards Zhan. There was a bright flash, lighting up the room, the crewmates, and the figures representing them...

Aeryn had fired and had felt Moya lurch. A deep sadness filled her, and she heard herself whisper, "Moya, I'm sorry..." Then, there was a light.

Pilot felt himself fading. Not even the wail of pain from Moya awoke him. But then an aurora of light enveloped him. His eyes opened, and he felt warmth on his face.

And the darkness was gone...


	12. Not in Kansas

"WHOAH!!! SHIT..." Crichton swore as he ducked a sword blow from the enraged Luxan. He fell to the rocky ground below him...

Wait, rocky ground?

He had no time to ponder the change in flooring, or ceiling for that matter, which was blue sky, dark clouds in the distance.

"DAMMIT!", he exclaimed, as another sword strike landed near.

The Luxan roared and prepared to charge after the scrambling human.

"You are really pissing me off, D'argo..." Crichton growled. He went for his blaster. None there, just a sword scabbard, which a glowing pommel extended. He pulled it quickly, and beheld a glowing blade, glaring golden.

"Use the force, Luke," he muttered. Crichton then looked at the snarling Luxan, who had paused in his attack at the appearance of the golden blade.

"Ok, big fella. I hope you're in there somewhere, D'argo. Because I have no idea what has just happened, where we are, or anything else. I need your help, and besides, I like you. I don't want to see what this can do to living tissue. Not on you, anyway. Truce?"

"WHERE'S CHIANNA?!" D'argo snarled gutturally.

Crichton looked around, then pointed behind D'argo.

"Over there, man."

There was Chianna and Rygel, both dressed in the costumes out of Crichton's drawings.

D'argo rushed over to Chianna and gathered her tenderly into his arms. She slowly came to, her dark eyes fluttering open.

"Why, I didn't know you cared so much," she murmured, a hand caressing D'argo's chin.

Crichton went over to Rygel, kneeled down and tapped the little king's shoulder.

"Wake up, Sparky. Your subjects await an audience."

Rygel's eyes slowly opened, and one hand went to his head, touching a tarnished crown as he looked around, fixing on the cooing couple nearby.

"Don't expect that sort of TLC from me," said Crichton.

"Yotz," Rygel grunted, sniffing. "Stop that, you tralks. We've got more pressing business to attend to."

"I thought your people had gotten to you, had made you a zombie. I thought I had failed you," D'argo said piteously.

"No, I'm fine," Chianna cooed. "We're fine. Right?"

She looked around, then looked closely at the new attire upon them all.

"Where are we?", she asked.

Cricton examined his glowing sword, his bow and arrow, and primitive leather traveling pack, and the similar ways his companion's attire and equipment had been transformed.

"I don't have a map in front of me," Crichton said, "...but if I had to guess...Middle Earth?"


	13. Our Own Fairy Tale

"Where?", Chianna asked.

"You know...Tolkien, Frodo, Gandalf, that Ring...oh, forget it. D'argo, partner, what was the matter with you? Here you come in like a berserker..."

D'argo looked down for a few seconds, then looked back at Crichton, "I don't know, John. I remember being on Moya, in my quarters. Then..."

"What?" Chianna asked, holding him.

"All the memories of my failure. Jo'lann, Jothee, Mactonn slaying him..."

"But Jothee's alive, he's fine," Chianna said, pressing her forehead softly against D'argo's cheek.

"I then saw those evil people coming from your world to kill your spirit, Chianna. You running from them in terror..."

D'argo paused, then growled, "...and I couldn't stop them!"

"What are you talking about?" Chianna said. "Look at me. I'm fine. I was with Crichton and Rygel the whole time."

"Ok..." Crichton thought. "We've got D'argo hallucinating about nightmares past possible and present. I'm making with the art in Moya's mind. And now we're taking a trip to wonderland."

He then pulled out the golden glowing sword.

"I think this used to be my pen."

Crichton stared at it thoughtfully, then moved it back when he saw Rygel reaching for it. He then put it away.

Rygel sniffed.

"That doesn't get us anywhere closer to explaining what happened, where we are, or where are the others. And didn't we see Zahn?"

"Yes, we did. I heard her speak. Didn't you, Crichton?" Chianna asked.

"Yes, I did," Crichton murmured.

"So where are the others?" D'argo wondered. "Moya, Pilot, Aeryn..."

"Aeryn..." Crichton whispered.

At that moment, riding the border of a dark mass seeming attempting to envelope her and the huge black dragon she rode, Aeryn shouted in defiance at the malevolent presence before her. Lances of flame spewed from the dragon's mouth, causing bits of the darkness to retreat.

They couldn't hold out. They had to withdraw, or be overwhelmed.

Aeryn cursed, and shouted a command to Prowler. The Dragon roared a final bellow of defiance, turned and flew away as fast as it could.

On came the darkness...


	14. Where Are We?

John Crichton watched as four plump rabbits turned on spits. This countryside seemed to be rich in wildlife, and it just an hour or so, he with is bow, and Chianna with throwing knives, had managed to bring down these rabbits. Rygel had actually managed to make himself useful, as he and D'argo had gone hunting for vegetables and tubers. With D'argo's survival knowledge and both their keen noses, they had found a good bounty, and the four friends found themselves anticipating the coming meal. Of course, they had to keep a close eye on Rygel.

"I only want to make sure the meal is fit for a King," Rygel whined, "You wouldn't want to waste your time with unworthy fare, would you?"

"Considering this fare is all we have, Rygel, you'll eat it, unworthy or not. Or starve," D'argo rumbled.

"That's no way to treat a ruler," Rygel harrumphed. "When I regain my throne, I'll remember your insolence."

"I wonder where your Kingdom is," Chianna mused. Her eyes then glittered, "I wonder if you're rich here."

Crichton said, "We may be able to answer the first question soon. When hunting, I saw what looked like a road. Looks like it gets used fairly often, too. We'll try to figure the direction of most traffic, and ease on down the road. Tonight, we'll camp here. Looks like we got blankets and cloaks in our gear, and the weather looks mild...I don't see much chance of rain, we'll do some camping, kids. It'll be fun."

The group dove heartily into their meal and eventually made ready to sleep under the stars.

"Why do I get last watch?", Rygel grumbled.

"Because you drew the short straw and got the last pick," Crichton said.

"I think you are making that up," Rigel said, "That's dren, to make me the thoddo. I won't be fit to rule, without needed sleep."

Crichton sighed and said, "Look, Sparky, I'LL take the last shift, ok? You can have the first one."

"That arrangement is acceptable," Rygel said after a pause. "Not as acceptable as a full night's sleep."

"Too frelling bad," D'argo grumbled. Chianna gently stroked him, and began tugging on his elbow.

"Ok, you two, you've got two cycles, then Chianna's up," Crichton said.

"Two cycles? That's all?", Chianna whined.

"Tralks," Rygel muttered. He shot dirty looks at the shifting, groaning lumps under the blanket.

Crichton stood away, grinning a bit at the activity and Rygel's discomfort. Hey, nookie under the stars. He couldn't blame them.

Sigh.

Aeryn. Where are you? Zahn, what do you have to do with all this? Moya, what's happned to you? Pilot...

In Southshire, the circus had come to town. Placards had gone up all over the city, promising thrills, spills and sights the people had never seen, guaranteed.

The star attraction of the promised freak show, the Frog Boy of the swampland. There, on the advertising poster with horror style lettering, was the menacing, snarling face of...

Pilot...


	15. And We're Off

Rygel started at Crichton's slap on his shoulder. The Hynerian was a lump under a blanket, only the tufts of his bushy eyebrows sticking up.

"Nice to see you brigh eyed and bushy tailed," Cricton said. "It's good to know I slept safely, with you ever vigilant. That's our Sparky."

Rygel shook himself free of the blanket and said, "I wasn't asleep, merely contemplating the most efficient way to defend our location, should we be attacked."

"With your eyes closed?", Chianna snarked, packing away her stuff.

"I'll have you know, such tactical considerations take deep meditation, especially when much of your energy has been wasted awake, listening to you two carry on like a pair of tralks!", Rygel sniffed.

"Rygel, make sure the next time you want to consider tactics, you talk to one of us. That way, we know your tactics will be sound...and not your sleep," D'argo rumbled. "And the next time one of us catches you sleeping on watch..."

D'argo didn't finish. Rygel gulped, then recovered his composure.

"A thoddo such as yourself wouldn't understand my methods, I see," he sniffed, putting his small pack into his hovering palaqin. "I suggest we forget this dren, and find out where the hezmana we are."

"Workin' on that, your Lordship," Crichton said, pointing at the road. "Last two hours, there's been a fairly stead stream of wagons heading what would be northwest on Earth, if the local sun is anything to go by. Not nearly as much traffic the other way. I'm guessing wherever they went is some kinda hub, or something important, interesting, hell, I dunno...beats just sitting here."

"Right," Rygel said. "Let's be on our way then."

He held his head high as his palaquin hummed forward.

Chianna shook her head and said, "That frelling greebol. He's thinking merchants and treasure, that's what."

Then, she seemed to be lost in thought, looked at D'argo, and a sly grin spread across her face.

"See ya in town, handsome!"

She stroked him under his chin and said, "Hey Rygel, hold up! Slow down, before you run into those Frelniks in front of you!"

Rygel stopped, looked around, shot Chianna a dirty look. She laughed and trotted after him.

Crichton looked at D'argo. The two men stared at each other for a moment, then chuckled. They moved on behind the party's schemers, enjoying the moment's peace.

Elsewhere in the world, Aeryn Sunn had been flying for...a long time. She had no idea. She was exhausted. Her Dragon was even seeming drained, listlessly flapping his wings.

Ahead, she saw lights, and what looked like stark grey buildings. Utilitarian, spartan, cold.

And rising to meet her, three black dragons, all with riders...


	16. Follow, Follow

John Crichton and Ka D'argo walked along, watching the haughtily floating Rygel adroitly attempting to ignore the capering, prancing and chattering Chianna. They could here glimpses of "Wow!" "Check this out" and "Rygel, these flowers are so you!"

Even mentions of treasure and riches didn't get Rygel's attention.

"Rygel seems focused," Crichton murmured, a sideways glance at the big Luxan warrior next to him.

"He's dwelling on being a king without a kingdom," D'argo speculated. "This place somehow brings it home to him, more than usual."

"Fluffy? Think he sees a second chance here?" Crichton speculated. "Even if we can figure out where 'here' is?"

"Hm," D'argo muttered noncommittally, his eyes on the prancing Chianna.

"Say, D'argo. Confession time," Crichton said, a hand on D'argo's shoulder.

D'argo looked at Crichton, taking in the Earthman striding next to him. Cricton gazed at him intently.

"What was all that about failing Jothee? Failing Chianna? You just about took my head off there, bro. Hope you aren't holding some kind of grudge you haven't told me about yet."

Crichton hoped D'argo wasn't going to go all warrior-stoic on him. He was genuinely concerned about his friend, and he was deeply hoping they wouldn't get a relapse to feral D'argo. That Luxan hyper rage was bad enough as it was.

And, he hoped, there would be clues as to what had happened to them.

D'argo drew in a breath, paused, then said, "I know Jothee is alive, John. I know Chianna is safe, right there in front of us. And I know what happened when I lost my mate. I don't know what happened, but I was in my room...and I felt..."

This was tough on D'argo. Crichton didn't even look at D'argo. He gazed ahead as he walked. But his ears were fully on D'argo.

"I felt like what I remembered was no longer true. I HAD failed. Failed miserably. And Chianna was next. I couldn't control what was happening. If you hadn't stopped what was affecting me, John, I might have killed you."

"Well, glad of that. Knowing you're here makes me feel alot more positive about our chances here, pal," Crichton said. "But what was it, affecting you?"

"I don't know, John. Something was almost rewriting my memories, toying with my..."

"Yeah, I think I know. Mind games seem pretty common here in these parts. But why wasn't I affected? Rygel and Chianna weren't either, as far as I can tell."

D'argo didn't answer. He had none.

John didn't bother asking about their missing comrades. No one had any answers.

But he would find them. He would find their missing friends. He would find Aeryn.

Ahead, Chianna and Rygel were arguing about which way to go on the road.

"YO! THAT WAY!", Cricton roared at them, pointing. Rygel huffed, Chianna stuck her tongue out, and they both headed in the indicated direction.

"Follow the yellow brick road," Crichton quipped, as they followed. "You would be the lion, tho definitely not cowardly. Rygel, hm, Toto, Chianna, hm, the Scarecrow, 'cept craftier. And me, I'm somewhere over the rainbow, baby..."

D'argo rumbled, totally missing what Crichton was talking about.

Again.

Wagons headed for the city none to far. Chianna cheerfully greeted them all.

And something watched them.


	17. Average Banditry

**AVERAGE BANDITRY**

John Crichton and Ka D'argo walked on in silence, watching their other companions, the blue ballerina Chianna and the pint sized Ex-King Rygel caper and float down the road before them. The sun shown and the occasional wagon passed, and friendly greetings were exchanged.

"You know, D'argo, this ain't too bad. If we weren't lost in a strange land, surrounded by potential hostiles and all that, this would be pretty cool. Ah hell, that's us anyway, this is cool," Crichton mused.

D'argo rumbled in assent.

One more wagon passed them, and it slowed as Chianna ran alongside to chat with the occupants. After a few moments, the wagon clattered on, and Chianna came capering up to Crichton and D'argo. She bounced along side them excitedly, grinning widely.

"HEY! I found out why everyone's going to this town! They've got a circus going! Isn't that great? Let's go see!"

"Yeah, why not?" Crichton said. "Nothing immediately needing our attention for the time being."

Suddenly, Rygel accelerated ahead of them. Chianna's head jerked in his direction, then the rest of her as she scampered after him.

"HEY! No fair!", she squealed.

There were shouts around the bend that Chianna and Rygel had gone.

Crichton and D'argo looked at each other, then ran into the trees roadside, using them as cover to approach what was ahead. And they saw...

Rygel and Chianna hiding behind some bushes, watching the merchant wagon that had just passed them. The merchants were surrounded by what appeared to be bandits holding them up.

Rygell looked upon the scene, calculations running thru his mind.

He floated over to Chrichton and whispered, "A rescue could be economically lucrative."

Crichton looked at Rygel and nodded, "Hm..."

Suddenly bolts of energy burned from the woodline opposite them. Charred bandit corpses began falling. The females in the merchant party screamed. The men covered them. The crossbowman on top looked for something to aim at. Then he found something.

A swarthy, moderately muscular man with dark, intense eyes came striding out of the woodline.

One bandit remained. A pool of liquid gathered around one of his boots.

"You, sir, are now increasingly short of friends. The city ahead might afford you some more. You should leave for there now."

The bandit fled with a yelp.

The adventurers gaped at who they saw.

Crichton breathed, "Krais?"


	18. New Views

**NEW VIEWS**

"KRAIS!", Crichton shouted. He burst forth from the bushes and ran towards Krais, who looked rather startled.

"Do I know you, fr..?", he started, but never finished, as Crichton's fist connected with his jaw. Krais's head popped back and he staggered, then went up to guard. Crichton charged, which Krais turned into a flip. As Crichton went down, tho, he grabbed Krais' ankle, twisted, and he went down, too.

Crichton was on top of him, a knife now at Krais' throat.

"Crichton!", Chianna yelped. D'argo looked ready to interfere. Rygel looked on speculatively.

"Ok, Krais, you ! What the hell is going on here? What are you doing here? Where's Aeryn? I'd start singing now, you ?"

Krais gazed up at Crichton calmly, and said, "As I was saying, sir, I don't know you. I don't know who this Aeryn is."

"Oh, right," Crichton growled, his knife increasing pressure. "You've never met me?"

"No, I haven't. I can see by your garb, you are one of the fabled Rangers of North Oceania. And..." his eyes squinted a second as he looked at Crichton's companions, then fixed on Rygel..."Is that..."

"Never mind our biographies!", Crichton snarled, the tip of his knife drawings Gaze line of sight back to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Doing what I can to help out in these dark times," Krais sighed. "I've been given a charge, and I will fulfill it."

"Krais the humanitarian..?", Crichton said, shaking his head.

"Krais the hopefully redeemed," he responded somewhat sadly. "Speaking of, you may want to get off me. Slowly. I have a mission, and I must continue."

"Yeah, or what?", Crichton snarled.

"Or my companion might loose patience with you...", Krais said calmly.

"Who..?" Crichton asked.

A rumble came from the woodline, then from the trees stepped, floated...a strange mass. Vaguely man shaped, it surged with power. It didn't have anything that could be identified as eyes, but Crichton got the distinct impression it was scrutinizing him intently.

"Talyn?", Krais called.

The apparition warbled in response.

Chrichon held his knife more tightly to Krais' neck.

"He comes closer, you are a dead man," Crichton warned.

"And you will follow," Krais said calmly. "I'm ready to die, if this is fated to be my time. Are you?"

Crichton swore, and slowly got off Krais.

Krais got up and nodded at Talyn. He then turned to Crichton and said, "I think we will meet again, Ranger."

He then turned to Rygel and bowed, "Your majesty."

Rygel looked startled, but managed to nod in return.

Krais regarded the group a second more, then turned to the entity called Talyn. It moved swiftly forward. It eveloped Krais, and the two of them vanished.

Crichton stared at the space they used to occupy, then turned to his companions. D'argo and Chianna shrugged in response. Rygel preened a bit.

Crichton looked at the merchant wagon. The passengers and driver were just starting to look up.

"Hey, any chance we can bum a ride?", Cricthon asked.


	19. To The Festival

**TO THE FESTIVAL**

The merchant wagon headed on down the road, festival bound. Now, they had some new passengers. Crichton and company were grateful for the ride, and the merchants were relieved to have what appeared to be VERY formidable warriors and a king in exile for a relatively modest amount of currency, and what they reasoned to be much in prestige. After all, they had in their company the King of Hyneria with them. Such noble company couldn't help but reflect positively upon them.

Or so Closus, silk czar, hoped so, anyway. The King, in the company of strange warriors, well, that couldn't help but shine off on company, right? Should be worth a few more Crowns.

"Let me say, it's an honor to have you making the trip with us, Highness," Closus schmoozed, as his daughter, a comely young wench with light brown hair, grey eyes and a somewhat vacant expression fed Rygel, and giggled at his voraciousness.

"Mm…yes," Rygel nodded. He then swallowed and turned to Closus and asked, "Explain something to me then, Closus. Have our two nations always had such an amiable relationship?"

"Oh, suredly, Lord," Closus enthused. "Your Lordship has been in exile not so long as to forget the long trade relationship our powers have enjoyed?"

"Oh, no, no…," Rygel said, "It's that I've been out in the wilderness a long time, waiting for the chance to re-emerge. One cannot rush such things, to be sure. And one needs information about the upstarts who hold my throne in abstentia."

"Oh, your highness, the Death Monitors hold your Realm. The word is, a darkness is creeping over the land, and the Death Monitor Army is a servant of the darkness. Your realm is being held by them. Your people have been enslaved, if not outright destroyed. No one knows, as no one has returned from a visit to your realm."

"I see," said Rygel. He then noticed how Closus' pleasantly plump wife was staring at Chianna, who had been happily snacking, and passing up food to the roof for Cricthton and D'argo.

Chianna noticed it, too. Recalling something Cricthton has said to her, she snarked, "Take a picture, lady, it lasts longer!"

"I'm sorry," Closus' wife said, her mild voice expressing her embarrassment. "It's just that…"

"What?", Chianna asked.

"You are one of the fingers of Darkness."

"WHAT?", Chianna asked again.

Closus looked and Chianna wonderingly, "How can you not know? Your entire nation has been subverted by the darkness. They act as one mind, for one mind is what they have. The mind of the darkness. They move as one. They fight as one. Blue skin, dark eyes, dead souls."

"Have you ever even met one of my people before?", Chianna asked?

"You are the first, this close," Closus' wife said, "But I have seen your army…", she paused, then continued. Ten years ago, when the darkness first arrived, I lived in Georgeshire, to the West. Your people were our neighbors. And for the most part, relationships were satisfactory."

Her voice then became softer, and she stared intently at Chianna, continuing, "Then the Cult of Darkness began. Most wrote them off as a fringe element. They were persecuted by the local authorities, but not taken seriously. However, their leader began to demonstrate strange powers. And his numbers began mysteriously growing. One after the other, members of your nation seemed to surrender their soul. They claimed a supernatural serenity. Others called it 'death of soul.' And now, your whole nation has been taken by the darkness, Lady."

Chianna shuddered, "No…no one left?"

"They all have been taken, at least, that's the word," Closus nodded gravely.

"Krais…fing Kraise. How did he get here? And THAT was Talyn? What do you make of all that, D'argo?" Crichton wondered.

"I don't know, John. None of this makes sense to me. But I can tell you, to my senses, that WAS Krais."

"And here's another thing. We've got invasions going on, Armies of Darkness, zombies, and all that…why are we on the way to a party?"

The man on the reins turned to him and said, "We are still alive, sir. And the armies haven't reached us yet. If we are to die, shouldn't we enjoy whatever life is left?"

Crichton thought and said, "Can't argue with that, friend."

Aeryn was guided to a platform, an aerie, where her dragon landed. Distant platforms were occupied by other dragons, except for a few empty ones. A tender came up to lay out feed for her dragon.

She sighed, not sure what to do next.

Then, a young man in black leather armor hurried up to her and saluted.

"Officer Sun, welcome back! Lord Scorpius wishes to debrief you immediately! Please, follow me!"


	20. Meeting With Lord Scorpius

"Scorpius?" Aeryn asked, sounding disoriented.

"Yes, Officer Sun," the young soldier said, "Please, this way..."

Aeryn looked back at her dragon. He was ravaging the bovine carcasses offered to him, but met her gaze when she looked back at him. She nodded at him. He blinked at her.

She turned and followed the soldier down into the dark gray fortress. Winding hallways branched here, there...every now and then, she heard troops calling cadence, shouting, and the sounds of metal striking metal. When she arrived on the last level, strange sounds and smells greeted her. Every now and then, a moan or a scream was heard from an odd room.

The soldier brought her up to a large black wooden door and gingerly knocked. The door slowly swung open, seemingly by itself.

"Enter," said the measured, calm, sinister voice she knew so well.

Entering, she saw him.

Scorpius.

He was dressed in an outfit similar to what she was familiar with, though it had a thicker look to it, a well-designed suit of black leather armor, with menacing angles. Glowing blue runes shone on the helmet. He sat behind a large wooden desk, reading a scroll.

Aeryn stood in front of the desk and waited. She was nervous, and not sure why. She had been a soldier in the Army of Peace for her entire life. Scorpius was the rightful ruler of her nation, and had been for some years now. Why would appearing before him bother her? It's an honor he would wish to see her.

Wasn't it?

Scorpius looked up at her, scrutinizing. She stayed at attention, her eyes straight ahead.

"Relax, Officer Sun," he said, after a moment. "In fact, have a seat." He gestured, and a chair slid across the room by itself to park next to her. He indicated the chair with a tilt of his head.

Aeryn sat down.

"A drink to refresh you after your mission, Officer Sun? Some coffee...tea? Spirits, even?"

"No thank you...milord," she said.

Scorpius nodded. "Stimulants cloud the system, anyway," he said absently. "They interfere with clarity. Clarity is always desired, especially in these times."

He then turned his full gaze onto her, "Report on your mission, Officer Sun."

Her mission, she had a mission. Fly out. Confront the Darkness. Destroy it if she could, save...probe...her comrades...John...who was John..? What was her mission...she didn't know.

Scorpius looked at her more intently, "Officer Sun? Your probe into the Darkness' perimeter? What did you find out?"

"I..I don't know, milord. Something happened, and I don't...I'm having trouble recalling," she stammered.

Scorpius sat back in his chair, steepling his index fingers in front of his face, his elbows resting on his chair's armrests. He gazed at her, his pale brow furrowed. "Tell me what you do remember, Officer Sun," his voice neutral.

Her memories seemed to twist around. She saw faces, heard voices, felt feelings. But they were blurred. She remembered, she was a soldier...and she knew Scorpius...and he...disturbed her. But why? She was his commanding officer. Yes, he had a reputation; even some scary, sinister things were whispered. And he was known to be utterly ruthless to his enemies.

But isn't that what it took to hold a nation together it troubled times? Especially when confronted by Darkness?

Why did she feel a sense of fear in the pit of her stomach?

But she summoned what she could remember, "Milord, Trachen and I encountered the edge of the Darkness phenomenon. It stretched from horizon to horizon at our eastern border. Dragonflame was ineffective against it. It seems to be advancing, and could reach this location within a month, if not sooner."

Scorpius considered quietly, his dark eyes focused on Aeryn's darker ones.

Finally, he said, "Then our plans must be moved up. We must plan for our offensive against the Army of the Death Monitors. They are somehow linked with the Darkness, and a key will be their destruction. My research has indicated possible approaches to the Darkness itself..." his voice trailed off.

He then returned his gaze to Aeryn, "Begin preparations for force deployment, Officer Sun."

Aeryn stood up, saluted, about faced and left thru the door opening itself.

It took considerable willpower on Aeryn's part not to run. And she was only slightly relieved, when the door to Scorpius' office had shut.

They could see it over the hills, even before they could see the town itself. Flags flying on tall spires. A town feeling festive, and wishing to announce it to all who could see her. There was a party going down, and all were invited. They wanted attendance, accompanying currency, too. Come one! Come all!

Crichton smiled, seeing this. He remembered being taken to the circus as a kid. His Dad had pointed out the various acts to them. John especially had enjoyed the acrobats, and how they flew through the air with the greatest of ease. Flight, so magical, so effortless. He wanted that, he could remember.

Then, there were the animal acts. These and the "freaks" disturbed him. Whips? Chairs? Chains? He hadn't liked that at all. In fact, he demanded to be taken away, it disturbed him so.

Wow, it had been a long time since he thought of that. The circus took on a bit more of a sinister air, when considered in that light.

Chianna looked delighted, pointing, gasping, laughing and exclaiming at the colors, sights and sounds around. Merchants, street performers, fireworks and more vied for their attention. Rygel took in the accolades as the people joyfully greeted the Hynerian Lord, even occasionally allowing his ring to be kissed.

D'argo grumbled, not being too thrilled about pressing throngs.

And then, Cricton saw it, "Come thrill at the terror of the Amazing Frog Boy!"

Crichton pointed at the billboard. The adventurers gaped.

"Pilot..."

At that moment, in a cage, Pilot huddled in the corner, in a straw nest. He looked utterly forlorn. The collar around his neck, and the heavy chain it was attached to, seemed to weigh on his soul.

One of the keepers, who seemed to pity him, whispered, "Lad, you need to show more life come showtime. If you don't give the rubes a performance, they may decide not to feed you. Then where will you be?"

Pilot looked at him with liquid eyes, "Want momma..."


	21. Our Attourney

Chianna gasped, D'argo growled and even Rygel started at the sight of a frightening appearing Pilot plastered on a banner. His eyes were painted as if glowing with an inner fire. Blood dripped from fangs. Clawed pinchers poised, with fanged mouths at the junctures.

He looked terrifying.

"Chianna, I DO think we will be going to that circus," Crichton vowed menacingly, his eyes burning holes in that banner. Pilot's monster face seemed to loom closer as it fluttered in the breeze.

A street barker waved fliers, "Hear ye, hear ye, come witness the Seven Cities Circus! Thrills! Chills! Impossible Acts! And yes…" his voice became an ominous murmur, which the surrounding audience closed in closed to listen, "Captured from the wild, an unusual creature taken from the Eastern Swamplands. His kind was thought no more, BUT here, in this city, for the first time EVER, you will see one for YOURSELF! Ferocious! Blood thirsty! Fierce! Hunted to near extinction long ago by the Army of Peace. Tomorrow…you will see one of these things…FOR YOURSELF! For a modest gratuity, of course."

He smiled and continued his spiel, passersby taking fliers. Crichton shouted at the barker, "Yo, Barnum, let's have one of those!" He took the flyer and read it. It said….

"Greetings, Citizens of Geldburg, the Seven Cities Circus is now among you! For one week and one week only, the Seven Cities Circus will astound you, amaze you and show you sights unseen anywhere else in this world! Amazing magic, High flying men and women! Beautiful maidens, hideous creatures and animals from all corners of the world! One week! Tickets available now! Modest price, but can you really put a price on AMAZEMENT? Come one, come all!"

Crichton looked up from the flyer. "Hideous monsters," he murmurs. "Hm…"

"We gotta get him out of there," Chianna said, her head sticking out of the window of the carriage, looking at Crichton. D'argo rumbled deep in his chest, his eyes intense.

"I know," Crichton said. "But I'm at a loss on how, Pip."

"Simple, " D'argo growled, "We break him out. He's in a circus. We are warriors. We can overcome them with little trouble, especially if we strike without warning."

"Yeah, I feel ya," Crichton nodded. "But we're in this city alone. We've got our skills, our weapons, but we are surrounded by a lot more. So we don't need to go for our guns unless we have no choice."

"Then what do you suggest?", D'argo asked.

"Still workin' on that, guy," Crichton said. "We have the financial clout of a well known merchant who wants to stay on our good side. That's one. And we have a respected lord of a realm, that's two. Maybe there's something we can do with that. The VIP treatment, you know?"

"Crichton, look!", Chianna said, pointing down the street.

A somewhat small but VERY vociferous group of people, who could only be described as protesters, mobbed the ticket booth, and now approached the barker. They were shouting things like "Cruel!" "Inhuman!" "Barbaric!" and "Endangered Species!" They were waving around signs and shouting at the passersby, handing out flyers of their own.

One man from the group approached the carriage, saw Rygel, and went to one knee, head bowed, "Milord, this circus is a cruel mockery of civilized life. It is an affront to a polite society, and because of THAT…", pointing to the Monster Pilot picture, "…is ILLEGAL!"

Rygel regarded the man, "And…you are?"

The man eagerly stood up and extended his hand, then withdrew it again when it seemed Rygel wasn't inclined to take it.

"I'm Garin Tayle, Attorney at Law, and I'm protesting the display of this creature on legal grounds. He is the last of his kind, as far as this world knows, and is an intelligent creature. The law shouldn't allow this kind of treatment! According to my research, it DOESN'T!" He waved a satchel of documents around to emphasize his point.

Crichton smiled slyly, "So, Garin, can you hook us up with the local Judge Judy?"

Garin smiled gratefully, then paused, "Who?"


	22. Public Protest

"You know, the local legal beagle, da judge? Ok, think Star Trek, your…giver of the laws?" Crichton asked?

Garin Tayle, attorney at law for the fine city of Geldberg smiled brightly. He looked at the rest of the group and said, "Do you all wish to stand against this injustice?"

D'argo nodded, his eyes determined.

"Frell, yeah!" Chianna declared.

There was a pause, and then everyone turned to look at Rygel. He harrumphed and squirmed a bit, then said, "I suppose…if this is a matter of injustice, as a dignitary from an allied land, I should at least look into this."

Crichton leaned in, tapped Rygel on the head, and whispered, "Hey, Fluffy, that's PILOT in there…"

Rygel looked at him sharply, "I said I would look into it! Now, can get out of the street here? A crowd isn't conducive to discussing this situation. And we may be attracting a few of the local ruffians…" Rygel's gazed turned ahead.

Sure enough, a group of rough looking types did stride forward. A half dozen, fists like coconuts, faces like walnuts. Long of brawn, short of brain, and looking for trouble. They set their sights on the activists. One of them walked up to Garin and grabbed him by his lapels, lifting him partly off his feet.

"Yer interferin' with honest business, ya bluddy arse. Now, I suggest you and your bleedin' noisemakers move on, before we silence them," the thug rumbled, a nasty smile revealing somewhat of a dearth of teeth.

Garin tried not to gag on the ruffian's toxic breath, and said calmy, "Sir, this is a legal protest, dealing with a matter of life rights. Surely you don't wish to stand in the way of that."

Crichton stepped forward and said, "Hey, Lurch!"

The thug looked at Crichton, vaguely confused, but wondering if he had been insulted. The looks on the faces of his companions were almost identical. One laughed heartily.

"Cor, that was good! Lurch!"

His companions smacked him back into watchful, sullen silence.

Garin looked back at Cricton and signaled him to stay back.

"My good man," he said calmly, "You mean, you have not been informed of the legalities of the situation at hand?"

"I ain't interested," the thug rumbled.

"How can you say that, if you haven't been briefed?" Garin persisted. You mean to tell me, you haven't been briefed?"

"No," the thug said impatiently.

Suddenly, the attorney's briefcase collided HARD with the thug's face. Garin came back down to his feet, while the thug went down on his backside, holding his profusely bleeding nose.

"There, now you've been briefed," Garin said simply.

"YOU…YOU." the thug sputtered. His mates got him up, and they made to move toward Garin, when the "peaceful" protesters roared as one, overrunning the now panic stricken toughs.

Crichton chuckled, patting Garin on the shoulder, "Damn, man, that was cool."

Garin smiled briefly, and then shouted, "STOP! PLEASE!"

"Oh, come on, let your buddies beat the stuffing out of them, learn 'em some manners," Crichton said.

"No, that's not our way," Garin said firmly.

"I just saw you level King Tough with your case there, bro."

"That was defense," Garin said simply. "Defense is what I do."

The protestors backed off the thugs, who ran/limped off. If they had tails, they would definitely be tucked.

Just in time, too, because a troupe of men, who were obviously representatives of the local constabulary showed.

"I say! Move on! Nothing to see here!" one with a set of chevrons on his chest plate shouted. "You lot! Making trouble here?"

Garin stepped forward, waving a sheet of paper, "This is an authorized protest, Sergeant! We have a legitimate issue at hand here?"

The constable sergeant took the paper, squinted at it, his large moustache twitching, giving him something of the appearance of a walrus.

"Here now, if this protest gets violent, it's null and void," he said.

"Ah, but the clause subsection notes that defense from unwarranted attack is allowed for protestors!"

"It requires a witness," the policeman said.

"I saw what happened, sergeant!", Crichton said, "Those pricks came out here to get rough and try to get the demonstration bolo'd! Right?", turning to his companions.

"I saw it all!" Chianna said, obviously getting into the righteous indignation mood.

"Those idiots are lucky they got off with just a severe beating," D'argo added.

Crichton looked at D'argo and mouthed, 'You-are-NOT-helping, man.'

"Excuse me, officer," came Rygel's voice, hovering at the constable's waist level, "I saw it all." These concerned citizens are innocent."

"Lord Rygel," the now deferential sergeant bowed at the hip. He paused. "That may be, but this issue is now a civil matter, and a magistrate must hear it."

"That's all we ask," Garin said, "We only seek justice for the last survivor…"

Crichton softly elbowed him, "Save it for the judge, man."

Garin nodded and smiled, "Lead on."

Crichton talked to Closus, arranging a meeting time with the merchant later. He then came alongside the floating Rigellian.

"Rygel, what possessed you to jump in there?"

"You are determined to free Pilot. I desire to move on and find our way out of this. You won't move on until you have freed him. So, I sought the most direct route. Besides, Pilot may be a key to solving this puzzle," Rygel said matter of factly.

"Ah, you just want the gang together, you sentimental softy," Crichton chuckled.

Rygel sniffed, his head held high.

Officer Sunn of the Army of Peace instructed her Captains to prepare their units for movement. A confrontation with the Death Monitors was coming. Lord Scorpius had a plan for directly confronting the Darkness directly, she believed, though he had shared it with no one. In the meantime, though, the Death Monitor force had to be stopped, one way or another. Her orders were to seek a parlayance, a truce, to allow the resources of the Army to focus on the Darkness solely. Yes, the Death Monitors were expected to be in alliance with the Darkness, but intelligence had detected fractures, that some weren't keen with this state of affairs.

Her force's mission would be to confront, assess, and either exploit or eliminate, whichever they could manage. There was also the rumored zombie army that the Death Monitors were working with. The zombies were supposedly complete servants, totally given to the Darkness. But the Death Monitors…their link with the Darkness, via alliances, or via conquest, must be destroyed.

That was her mission.

A mission focused her. 

She scrubbed her Dragon, who rumbled affectionately, nuzzling her. Her mind drifted, and again she saw a handsome man with intense blue eyes. His name was John. And she had no idea how she knew him.


	23. Plea for Pilot

CHPT 23 "Plea for Pilot"

The Plea for Pilot

Magistrate Juon Kanta looked at the motley bunch gathered before her. A rather handsome Ranger from North Oceania, one of tattooed demi human hill barbarians, a member of the race now known as "fingers of Darkness", though she displayed none of the zombie characteristics of those shambling, mindless hordes. And finally, Lord Rygel, exiled lord of the Darkness overrun nation of Hyneria.

And their lawyer.

Garin Tayle bowed respectfully to the Magistrate, not letting her serious, glaring green eyes intimidate him, fortified with a righteous sense of purpose.

Magistrate Kanta nodded to him and his party, and looked at the competing voices. Merchant Prince Abel Korner, Owner and proprietor of the Seven Cities Circus. His family had run the circus for fifty years. They were respectful, and brought honest currency to the land, and entertainment to the people, both needed greatly in these troubled times. Kanta knew she had a thin line to balance in her decision here, and seeing the indignation and anger in Korner's eyes, along with the justified determination in Tayle's, this would be rather difficult.

"Mister Tayle…", she began, "I recognize your plea for the release of the…" she squinted at the circus flyer, "Amazing Frog Boy, yes, Boy, from the Circus, due to the fact you argue that he is a sentient in possession of a soul, further, the last survivor of his race, and therefore the circus cannot legally hold him."

"And we know him! He's a buddy! Tell 'er!" Chianna declared, elbowing Rygel.

"Out of order!" Korner's toad-like attorney piped up, his wide eyes watery. "Prior acquaintance hasn't been established, much less sentience."

"Mr. Tayle, please make sure your clients recognize due order and the decorum of this court," Kanta warned.

Garin shushed Chianna, backed up by Crichton and turned back to Kanta, "Your honor, may I question Prince Korner?"

"You may," Kanta allowed, "But be warned to keep it within respectful boundaries."

Garin nodded and turned to Korner and his lawyer, "Prince Korner, where did you apprehend the Frog Boy?"

Korner harrumphed a bit. The hawk like merchant prince clearly didn't appreciate these proceedings at all. Not that he was arrogant or anywhere approaching evil, but he was proud of his circus, proud of his family's entertaining tradition. And he wasn't going to let this…lawyer ruin the service he provided."On the border to the Marshland Realms," Prince Korner answered.

"How did you happen to find him?" Garin asked.

"I found it dehydrated and exhausted on the edge of the Realms. It had been fleeing the Darkness for some time, I would guess,"

"And you came to its rescue?" Garin asked.

"Yes…yes, I did. It obviously couldn't survive without assistance outside its realm."

"Ah," Garin said thoughtfully, "So it came to you willingly."

"Well…it didn't run when we approached."

Garin locked gazes with him, "Was it too exhausted to run? Frozen in fear? Just how has the creature been fairing in your hands, Prince Korner?"

"Yeah, just how have you been treating Pilot, Prince?" Crichton asked harshly, and then upon seeing Kanta's look, "Sorry, judge…lost my head." He looked at D'argo. D'argo grimaced.

"Irrelevant, as he is property of the Seven Cities Circus!" Korner's lawyer ribbited.

"Bullshit!" Crichton coughed.

"Bless you," Chiana said soothingly. Rygel handed him a hanky.

"Quite relevant, as even visiting merchants must observe human animal care laws in our realm, if they are expected to do business," Garin said. "Even more so if they are a rare creature. And what if they are…sentient?"

"Objection!" Korner's lawyer yelped

"Sustained," Kanta said. "Such speculation has no place in this court. Only facts are matters of law."

"But what if we could talk to Pilot…yes, asshole, he has a name," Crichton declared to Korner."

"Advocate Tayle, your retinue must remain silent or I will have them removed," Kanta warned.

Garin suppressed a little smile and said, "Yes, your honor, but, with respect, the Ranger makes a good point. If he CAN talk, and he knows these people, it would make strong evidence in our case for sentience of this creature, and the illegality of his captivity. I make a motion that we go visit the Frog Boy and examine the evidence."

"Objection!" Korner's attorney croaked.

"Denied," Kanta said. "In the interests of a full examination of the evidence, we will go see this creature immediately, seeing as the first performance of the circus goes on tonight. Prince Korner, lead us on."

"With pleasure, your honor," Prince Korner, looking every bit the aggrieved, but reasonable businessman, led the entourage.

Crichton said, "Good going, Garin. I know Pilot. He's a sarcastic guy. He'll charm Kanta's robes off and he'll be out of there. Right?"

Garin swallowed and said, "Well, that's the idea."

"And it's a good one," Rygel said. "Pilot is most annoying when he wants to be. That purpose of annoyance alone proves sentience."

Aeryn Sun flew above the Legions of the Army of Peace, resplendent in black leather armor. Her squadrons of dragons flew overhead in precise formations, bellowing and hooting at each other. She stroked Prowler's dorsal ridges, producing a rumble from her dragon. She and her squadron would soon be flying ahead to intercept the commander of the encroaching Death Monitors. This could mean a turnaround for the entire war, or her untimely demise. Well, she hoped she wouldn't die before she had a chance to delve into the mystery of the man with the blue eyes named John who kept haunting her.


End file.
